Respecting Her Memory
by Lady Maeror
Summary: One tree, for every year. Horace can't help but think Cassie has an odd way of mourning her mother's death.


**Author's Note:**

I'm back :) Unfortunately it's late so this was all I could come up with. I _promise_ to do some serious updating soon. But my laptop needs to be fixed within the next few days, (its _way_ too slow).

In another note, I'm absolutely stoked about the amount of favourite and favourite story ads I've received. And all the kind reviews for whatever I write, it makes me feel so appreciated :) (It's also a great motivator) ^ ^

Anyway, this is slightly angsty but something I've been meaning to write for a long time. I might expand and perhaps make a small chaptered story later on if I feel like it. (Cause you know, I have a bad habit of doing that.) This also doesn't coincide with _Harmony._

T'was going to be a part of my _Defining Moments_ story, but I felt it would be more effective as a oneshot stand-alone.

* * *

**Respecting Her Memory**

* * *

It was odd and rather comforting, to feel the rays of the sun on her back, heating her black clothes as she made her way towards the hill.

Such strange weather, she mused, as she noted remnants of the winter still in place. Frost hung upon flowers and trees stood naked without leaves to show. But the light seemed to brighten the world, determinedly shining despite the season.

Beside her walked her father; King Duncan. He too wore black, but of a simple measure, unbefitting of his status, though he didn't really care. His short blonde hair was tugged behind his ears and his green eyes glistened as they marched on.

Princess Cassandra, not yet eight years old, understood the importance of the day.

It was the day her mother had died.

She felt a little sadness about the fact that her mother wasn't with her, but she didn't have any residual memories and could only grasp her appearance from portraits and her father's words, so the effect was far less devastating than any other child.

To her, it was a day of remembrance, sharing moments of her life with her father, and he in return did also. She never cried, because she didn't feel there was anything to cry about. She couldn't mourn someone she didn't know.

Behind them, four guards followed adamantly, despite the low danger of trespassers on private Crown land.

In her father's arms was a small clay pot, holding a tree sapling, nestled amongst a bed of soil.

Every year they would plant a tree around her mother's grave.

Queen Angeline, she had been told, hadn't ever wanted overly expensive things and wouldn't have wished for a grand gravestone.

Currently, seven trees stood around the grave; the last few were still small. Other plants and flowers had begun to crop up at the base of the trees, giving the illusion that a garden was being formed around the stone.

Cassie had always thought the garden was quite beautiful and often came to play and sit quietly under the watchful eye of her nursemaid.

"Here Cassie, come help me," her father called as he knelt in the dewy grass.

She eagerly went over and helped him to remove the tree from its pot. King Duncan, with his own hands, created a hole big enough for the roots so she could gently place the plant within the earth. Together, they covered the hole. King Duncan accepted a small pail of water from one of the attending guards, and gave it to Cassie, so she could water it.

The process took a mere few minutes, but to her, it was as if they had been planting it for hours.

The Princess beamed at their handy work, her bright emerald orbs glowing with satisfaction. Her short blonde hair streamed around her as the wind picked up and she nodded to herself.

"Well done," her father said, reaching up to kiss her softly on the head, aware of his dirtied hands.

She could see a trail of tears on his face and reached up with her small hands to brush them away. "Stop crying." She ordered, in her high voice.

Duncan laughed and pulled her closer to him. "I'm allowed to cry, you know that."

Cassie shook her head stubbornly, but couldn't escape his embrace. "This day is for _me._ Remember, you told me that."

"Did I?"

"Yes!"

The King smiled. "Maybe I did." He admitted.

Cassandra, her mind subject to swapping topics, (as most children do), had already moved on and was tugging the branches of the tree from last year.

"Look dad; see how the leaves have grown?"

* * *

Twelve years later and Cassandra was once again walking towards the small crest, outside Castle Araluen, to plant a tree in honour of her mother's death.

This time, she only had her father beside her, as well as her Champion, Horace.

The tree planting was the same, while Horace stood watching, aware of the intimacy that he was being allowed to see.

Both royals whispered words of comfort, to each other or the grave, Horace wasn't sure, before they sat back on their heels.

Cassie, much more attuned to the emotions of those around her, hugged her father and excused herself. She took Horace's hand and led him away, so King Duncan was still in sight, but they could give him time to grieve on his own.

"I don't understand how you can be at such peace." Horace noted bluntly, when they were out of earshot.

The Princess smiled slightly and squeezed his hand. "I've been doing this for twenty years." She noted.

The knight sighed and glanced back to the garden that had gradually grown over the years. "You know I didn't really know my father, but I miss my mother."

Cassie shrugged. "You knew your mother." She stated simply.

Horace was aware that he might be prying where his opinion didn't belong, but he wasn't as tactful as his other friends. Ignoring the discomfort he felt, he voiced, "but still, I've seen you do this for a few years and it doesn't look like much, to be honest."

Cassie folded her arms and raised her eyebrow slightly, in reply.

He shifted uncomfortably and offered lamely, "it's just, it's your _mother_."

"And what do you think I should be doing?"

Horace glanced down. "Respecting her memory." He muttered.

In mock-anger, Cassie turned away from him.

"I'll have you know Horace Altman, that I'm respecting my mother's memory and life, _every single day_."

The Princess soon felt his hand tug onto hers and he mumbled an apology.

"I was out of line." He admitted.

Cassie smiled and faced him, reaching up to brush a hand through his hair.

"No, it's fine. But really, I am. A long time ago my father told me that this day was for celebrating. I don't mourn her because I don't know her, I used to think that, but now I know I'm _living_ for her. That's what she would have wanted."

Horace shrugged and smiled. "I guess, but it's hard to see from that perspective."

Duncan called from his spot, as he stood and stretched out the aches from kneeling for so long. He ignored the dirt on his pants and his hands.

The Princess let her hand linger on her Champion's face, before she turned to make her way back to her father.

Horace followed slowly, uncertain whether he should stay in earshot or not.

King Duncan smiled and he embraced his daughter. Then when they parted, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small wrapped package.

"Happy Birthday Cassandra." He told her, kissing her lovingly on the forehead as he handed it over.

As Horace watched her eagerly open her present, to find a beautiful necklace within, he suddenly understood what she had been telling him. His mouth formed a small, 'oh'.

His own upbringing had made him feel ill at ease when he saw how casual Cassie had been over her mother's death. But he supposed that celebrating Cassie's life was a good alternative to mourning her mother's death.

And really, it probably was the best way to respect Queen Angeline's memory.

* * *

**A/N**:

Ehh... *massive dislike for her ending*. But... its 1am so I can't be bothered.

Once again, Duncan's wife has no name so far, I made up Angeline. Feel free to take the name, I don't really care.

Thanks again for all the support guys! :)

- Love Mae.


End file.
